A political tidal wave is crashing across Germany. That’s what the hard-right nationalist Alternative for Germany (AfD) party firmly believes.

It is labelled “radical”, “racist” and “anti-democratic” by opponents. Germany’s domestic intelligence service says the party is “anti-constitutional”.

But if polls are right, the AfD will become Germany’s second largest political force after elections this Sunday.

That would be a huge shift in tectonic plates, not just at home but across Europe.

Why is the AfD such a big deal, you might ask? Parties on the populist right have grown in support across much of Europe.

The AfD points to Donald Trump as well. They share his “anti-woke”, tough-on-migration, pro-fossil-fuel message. They too are keen to stop sending weapons to Ukraine, and to de-escalate tensions with Russia.

The Trump administration supports them right back – publicly, to the outrage of many Germans.

The thing is, Germany isn’t just any other country.

It is Europe’s largest economy, one of its most influential nations. It still carries the weight of its Nazi past. Alongside the UK and France, it’s one of the Big Three that helped shape and secure Europe’s liberal order and defence structures following both World War Two and the Cold War.

Never before in post-war Germany has a hard-right party been so successful, while on the cusp of being identified as a threat to the Federal Republic and its liberal constitution.

France’s influential opposition leader, Marine Le Pen, whose party is also considered far-right, has distanced herself from the AfD on the European stage, apparently judging its positions and ethno-nationalist reputation too radical.

The long-held assumption among the mainstream at home and abroad had been that Germany’s dark past immunised it against any serious flirtations with the extreme right.

But there’s a lot about this election that’s making observers shift their view of Germany. And I will come back to the AfD, which vigorously denies its “extremist” label.

Germans have suffered a kick in the gut – in terms of self-image and their country’s international reputation.

For years, they got used to being admired – and envied – as the economic powerhouse of Europe.

Vorsprung durch technik, roughly translating as “progress through technology”, was an advertising slogan for Audi cars in the 1980s. For decades it encapsulated Germany’s reputation in the international imagination.

The country was seen as modern, dynamic and technologically advanced. And the automobile industry was one of the main arteries pumping wealth into Germany’s economic heart.

But fundamental flaws have now been exposed in the German economic model.

It is widely viewed as kaputt (broken) – relying too heavily on energy-intensive, old-fashioned industries like combustion-engine cars and the chemical industry.

Critics question Germany’s lack of foresight, or ability to move with the times. Where was the serious investment in R&D? In big tech? In AI?

To make matters worse, during Angela Merkel’s 16 years as chancellor – she stepped down in 2021 – Germany became increasingly dependent on:

• exports to China
• cheap gas from Russia
• a US defence umbrella.

All this left Germany very exposed.

Donald Trump now says Europe can no longer rely on US security support and guarantees.

China has made rapid advances in the automobile industry and dominates electric car technology. So far less need for German imports.

And Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine left Germany scrambling for alternative energy sources. Buying liquid natural gas, from the US and others, is expensive, leading to financial strain on many energy-intensive German businesses.

The result: Germany’s economy is sluggish and sticky. As the biggest member of the eurozone currency, that has an impact way beyond its borders. European allies are frustrated.

Germany’s military is also a source of irritation (that’s putting it politely) among European neighbours. Berlin is a key power in the defence alliance, Nato. Donald Trump’s return to the White House means Europeans need to provide more of their own capabilities.

German Chancellor Olaf Scholz pledged a zeitenwende – a turning point – for his country’s depleted military, after Russia’s full scale invasion of Ukraine.

Yet Germany’s military remains in a debilitated state – less battle-ready, we are told, than three years ago.

Partly due to its donations to Ukraine.

Germany, after the US, has been the biggest donor of military aid to Ukraine and most political parties in Germany are in favour of continuing to support Kyiv.

The AfD takes a very different stance. “Peace” is one of the most frequent signs you see at their rallies.

They want a rapprochement with Russia, to immediately stop sending weapons to Ukraine, and to use resources instead to build up Germany’s armed forces for protection at home.

More than 4,000 bridges in Germany are broken or in a dubious state. I could hardly believe my ears when I first heard that. But it is the reported figure in a country whose infrastructure has been quietly crumbling for years due to chronic under-investment – public and private.

Train punctuality in Germany is appalling – worse than in the UK, which will astound weary British commuters.

Digitisation is lamentable too. Mobile phone reception is patchy outside cities and people are still known to use faxes!

But even if recent German governments had wanted to invest more, they faced legal limits on spending.

A debt brake was written into the German constitution following the financial crisis of 2008/9, with a constraint on new debt of no more than 0.35% of GDP, except in times of national emergency.

Germans didn’t trust their politicians any more.

They had seen government spending spiral at home and abroad. The euro currency, which Germany depends on, almost collapsed.

But what seemed to voters an anchor of financial stability then, now appears to many, a block to economic growth.

Rows about reforming the debt brake were the final straw leading to the collapse of Germany’s outgoing coalition, and the snap election this Sunday.

But, new German government beware: breaking the debt brake will be no mean feat. You need a two-thirds majority in parliament to change the German constitution.

Migration is a huge issue in Germany. And a big vote winner for the AfD.

It is far from the only country worrying about migration levels in Europe, but Germany alone took in over a million asylum seekers, mainly from Syria and Afghanistan, during Europe’s migrant crisis in 2015/16.

The country has also opened its doors to 1.2 million Ukrainian refugees.

Many Germans were proud of what they called their “welcome culture”.

But a spate of attacks by asylum seekers from the Middle East and Afghanistan has re-ignited a debate about how open Germany’s borders should be.

There have been stabbings, a machete assault, a car ramming into civilians at a Christmas market and again at a recent trade union demonstration in Munich, where yet another small child was killed.

The AfD insists it is not racist or anti-migration, and that anyone is welcome in Germany if they arrive by legal means, get a job, contribute to society and respect local norms and culture.

The party says it would immediately deport all immigrants who commit a crime, and anyone who arrives here illegally.

That stance was applauded by numerous AfD supporters I spoke to at rallies in the lead-up to Sunday’s election – including young women who told me they no longer felt safe on the streets.

It’s also worth noting that in May, a German court found that “at least a significant part of the AfD” believed that anyone with a migrant heritage was not “properly German” – even if they held German citizenship.

It concluded that the AfD aimed to “grant German citizens with a migration background only a legally devalued status”. This goes against the German constitution.

Worried they could lose voters to the AfD over the question of migration and borders, Germany’s centre left and centre right have moved to the right in their rhetoric. This is a victory for the AfD, whatever the outcome of the election.

Even if it becomes the second largest force in parliament, as predicted, it is very, very unlikely to make it into Germany’s next government.

The post-World War Two political system in Germany is designed so that no single party can dominate parliament as the Nazis did after they were first voted in, in 1933.

Coalition-building is the name of the game. And there has been a so-called firewall in place since the end of World War Two – a cross-party consensus to keep the extreme right out of government.

The AfD insists it is conservative and libertarian, not a radical, right-wing force.

It points to its growing support base, in west as well as east Germany and among younger voters too. It accuses opponents of trying to shut it up, shut it down and keep it out of power. That, it says, is anti-democratic.

Elon Musk grabbed headlines Europe-wide when he proclaimed in December that only the AfD can save Germany.

The majority here still insists their country needs to be saved from AfD.